Ain't Misbehaving (9781455523801)

by Cannon, Molly

  Jake held up a hand to ward him off. “I’m not going to fight you, Linc. Besides I’ve already gotten one black eye tonight.”

  Marla Jean quickly scooted to the edge of her bed, stood up on one leg, and threw herself between the two men. Grimacing at the red swelling starting under Jake’s eye, she asked, “Oh, Jake, did I do that? I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll live. But I think it’s best if I go home now. Good night, Marla Jean.” He kissed her on the cheek, slipped past his scowling best friend, and walked out the bedroom door. Before leaving he added solemnly, “I’ll talk to you later, Lincoln.”

  “Why did she hit you?” he yelled at Jake’s retreating back. Turning back to Marla Jean, he demanded, “Why did you hit him?”

  “Let it go, Lincoln. I think you’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”

  “Me? I’ve caused trouble?”

  “It’s never a good idea to go barging into a woman’s bedroom in the middle of the night.”

  “You’re not a woman, you’re my sister.”

  “Do you know how ridiculous you sound?”

  They heard the sound of the front door closing. A vein throbbed in Linc’s forehead. “I’m asking again, and I’d like an answer. Why does Jake have a black eye?”

  “I was having a bad dream, and when he tried to wake me up, I slugged him.”

  “That doesn’t explain what was going on when I turned on the light.”

  Now that she was fully awake, she urgently needed to heed nature’s call. “If you don’t mind, Lincoln, could we continue this conversation in the kitchen? I need to go to the bathroom before I pee my pants.” She wobbled on her good foot and tripped over the stupid leggings still hanging half off her leg.

  Linc was there in an instant and helped her make it to the bathroom door. “I’ve got you, sis. I’ll make some coffee, because I’ve got a lot more to say, and you’re going to sit and listen to every word.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled. Shaking off the hand he had on her elbow she said ungraciously, “I can take it from here.”

  As soon as the door closed she tried to marshal her shaky breathing and ignore the way her skin was still singing from the feel of Jake’s mouth roaming across it.

  Lord, preserve me, she thought. Put me in a jar and close the lid. Her body ached with arousal and need. She felt clumsy with it. Half drunk, half wanton. She sat down on the toilet and pulled the leggings off her good leg and flung them in the direction of the hamper. She sat there, wanting to postpone the confrontation with Linc, wanting to savor what had almost happened with Jake. Jake, for God’s sake.

  She wasn’t sure what triggered the change in Jake’s arm-length attitude toward her, and she could kill her big brother for his usual lousy timing. Murder him in cold blood, chop him into little pieces, and feed him to the snapping turtles down at the pond.

  And Jake. He hadn’t seemed the least bit embarrassed when Linc barged in on them. He just rolled off the bed and walked away as if things like that happened to him every day. Maybe they did. She was having trouble being so blasé.

  But right now she had to worry about dealing with an irate brother parked at her kitchen table. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t leave until he’d finished reading her the riot act, so she might as well get it over with.

  When she came out of the bathroom, her bedroom was empty, and the only signs of her recent wrestling match with Jake were the bed covers scattered this way and that.

  Maybe it was the draining effects of her frustrated libido, but the pain pounding in her toes suddenly became impossible to ignore. Her entire foot felt like a tube of toothpaste being squeezed by King Kong. The pain pills had definitely worn off.

  She grabbed the bag of pain medication from her dresser, and using the hallway wall as support, she hopped along toward the kitchen. Lincoln was standing at the counter with his back to her, making coffee. He turned around when she walked in but didn’t say a word—just stared at her, long and hard, like he was making a critical decision. Then he turned his back to her and asked, “Do you want some coffee? It’s not decaf but I’ve given up on getting any sleep tonight.”

  “Sure, I’ll take a cup.” She shuffled to the nearest chair. After she sat down, she dragged another chair closer and propped both feet on it.

  Her toes were still screaming so she reached down, unhooked the fasteners holding the ACE bandage in place, and started unwrapping her foot. The more she unwrapped the better her toes felt. Between the tightness of the bandage and the swelling of her ankle all circulation had been cut off and now she could feel the blood rushing back into her mangled toes. She exhaled a big whoosh of air, a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and groaned with relief. She might make it through the night, after all.

  Linc placed a mug of coffee in front of her and looked at the discarded bandage. “You think that’s smart?”

  “I think that dang thing felt more like a sausage casing than a bandage. Why do they put these on so tight, anyway?”

  “Do you need another pain pill?” Pulling the prescription bottle from the sack, he set it next to her mug. He filled a glass with tap water and gave that to her, too. Then he sat down across from her with both hands wrapped around his coffee mug like it was anchoring him in place.

  She ignored the pills. “I’m not taking anything until after you’re through lecturing me. I need to keep my wits about me so I can defend myself.” She watched him, trying unsuccessfully to gauge his mood.

  Finally he said, “I’m calling Mom first thing tomorrow morning.” He crossed his arms over his chest like he was daring her to object.

  She laughed. “Because I had a man in my bed? What’s she gonna do, ground me?”

  “Somebody ought to. First Donny Joe and now—” he paused as if he could barely bring himself to speak his name, “and now Jake. But no, I’ll spare her all that.” He sounded so damned puritanical, she wanted to kick him, but she couldn’t risk another injured foot.

  “Then please enlighten me, Saint Lincoln. Why are you calling her?”

  “Dinah and I already discussed it before I came over, and she agrees with me. I’m going to tell Mom about your foot.”

  She held up a hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, buddy boy.”

  He talked right over her objections. “You’re going to need some help getting around, and since they planned to come home for Thanksgiving, anyway, I’m sure they won’t mind coming home a few weeks earlier, instead.”

  “Don’t do that, Lincoln. Honestly, it’s not necessary. I can manage.”

  “Really? What about the barber shop? You can’t afford to shut it down until you’re on your feet again. And besides, Dad would probably have fun running things for a little while.”

  That was true. And she did have bills to pay, but the idea of her parents coming home to rescue her didn’t sit right. She did miss them, though. And Lincoln was going to push until she gave in.

  “Okay, call them. But if they can’t change their plans, I’ll figure something out.”

  “Wow, now I’m nervous. You gave in way too easily.”

  “Because I want you to do something for me, Lincoln.”

  “I knew it. What’s the catch?”

  “Go easy on Jake.”

  His face clouded over. “Fat chance. I’ll go easy on him right after I rearrange his pretty face.”

  “I mean it, Lincoln.”

  He glared at her. “Why should I? I trusted him. He was supposed to be here taking care of you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I believe that’s what he was doing when you interrupted us.” She laughed at the horrified look on her brother’s face.

  “It’s not funny. You aren’t seriously thinking about getting involved with him, are you?”

  “I’m not seriously thinking about getting involved with anyone. But if I was, why would that be so bad? He’s a good guy, not to mention he’s your best friend.”

  “He also go
es through women like Kleenex.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Marla Jean.” His tone held warning and a hint of panic.

  “Relax. Go home to your wife, Lincoln. You’ve scared him off, at least for tonight. Let me worry about my own affairs.”

  “I wish you’d find a different way to phrase that. And I’m not sure I should leave you here alone.”

  “Well, since you ran off my nursemaid, it’s either that or you can sleep on the couch. But I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m going to take a pain pill, and then you can help me back to the bedroom and tuck me in. I’ll be asleep before you know it.”

  He seemed to think it over. “I guess that’ll be okay.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if you stopped by with doughnuts in the morning. After tonight, you owe me big time.”

  Lincoln sighed. “I’ll spring for the doughnuts, but I’m not making any promises about Jake.”

  She popped a pill in her mouth and downed it with water. “So, tell me. What is it with you and Jake, anyway? What’s this big secret thing he thinks he owes you, and why don’t I know about it?” She’d rarely seen Linc look so uncomfortable. He stood abruptly and turned away, putting the coffee mugs in the sink. Then he hooked his arm around her and started helping her down the hall. “Come on, spill, Lincoln. Did he kill someone, and you hid the body? Did he rob a bank, and you drove the getaway car?”

  They reached her room, and he waited while she climbed back onto the bed. He busily rearranged the pillow at the end to elevate her foot. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sis. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I want chocolate and lemon-filled,” she yelled as he turned off the light. He obviously wanted to make his escape before she could pump him for any more information. But his reaction to her questions about Jake had been interesting.

  Very interesting.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It’s a ten-hour drive, honey.” Marla Jean listened to her mother’s soothing voice over the phone line. True to his word, Lincoln called their folks at the crack of dawn, and now her mother wanted to reassure her that help was on the way. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” her mom said, “so we should be there by dinner time tomorrow night.”

  Marla Jean was still in bed, half asleep and groggy from the late night and pain pills, but at her mom’s last announcement, she sat straight up and threw off the covers. “I can’t wait, Mom. Y’all be careful.”

  She hung up from the conversation with her mother, her thoughts bouncing around like a pinball while she went over everything that would have to be done before they arrived.

  Lincoln appeared in her bedroom doorway eating a doughnut. From the yellow goo on his chin, it appeared to be a lemon-filled. “Good morning, sis. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling like you better grab a mop and a bucket and get busy cleaning.”

  He scrunched up his face in a give-me-a-break look. “Oh, relax. The house looks fine.”

  “The house looks fine by our standards, but it’s not fine by ‘our mother is going to be here by dinner tomorrow night’ standards.”

  Dinah stuck her head around the doorframe. “Oh, damn. I didn’t think about Bitsy and her white glove. You better get to work, Lincoln. I’ll help Marla Jean get dressed, and we can make a plan.”

  “Can I at least finish my doughnut?”

  She shoved her husband toward the kitchen and said, “Run, don’t walk, mister. There are a million things to do.”

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Dinah, her face shining and eager, plopped down on the end of the bed and rubbed her hands together. “Tell me everything. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

  Marla Jean pushed her hair out of her face and frowned. “About what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. Lincoln came home fit to be tied last night. At first he wouldn’t tell me why he was upset, but I have ways of making him talk.”

  Marla Jean made an “ew” face and then sighed. “So, what did he tell you?”

  Dinah leaned forward and whispered, “He said he found you in bed with Jake.”

  “Well, there you have it. Now you know everything.”

  “Oh, come on. What? Why? How? I mean, we are talking about Jake, and if you think I’m going to rest until I get the particulars then you have severely underestimated me.”

  “It’s no big deal, Dinah, and Lincoln is overreacting. Just like he has been ever since my divorce. Does he expect me to sit home and take up knitting?”

  Dinah shrugged and said airily, “ ‘No big deal’ isn’t the phrase that comes to mind when I think of Abel Jacobson.”

  “And you a married woman. I’m shocked.”

  “I’m married, not blind, and Linc is only concerned that you are overcompensating for what Bradley did to you.”

  “This has nothing to do with Bradley. It has to do with sex.”

  Dinah’s eyes bulged, and she bounced up and down on the bed. “Oh my goodness. So you actually did have sex with Jake?”

  Marla Jean shook her head. “No, I’m beginning to think the universe and my brother have conspired to make sure I never have sex again as long as I live.”

  “Well, you know Jake has a reputation for avoiding serious relationships.”

  “For the ten millionth time I’m not ready for anything serious. Do you really think I’m emotionally prepared to trust another man right now?”

  “Okay, okay.” Dinah flapped her hand like that part wasn’t important. “So, what did happen?”

  “I had a nightmare, and he tried to wake me up. One thing led to another, and the earth was on the verge of moving when Jughead walked in on us.”

  Dinah giggled. “Poor Lincoln.”

  “Poor Lincoln? What about me? What about Jake?”

  “Oh, you two can always take up where you left off if you want, but I think Lincoln is permanently scarred.”

  “Good. Maybe he’ll quit being such a busybody, and right now we’ve got a ton of work to do. Why don’t you go see what kind of mess Linc is making while I take a shower?”

  Dinah jumped up and grabbed some crutches that were leaning against the wall. “I’ll have you know your big brother climbed up in the attic this morning and found these.”

  Marla Jean stood and gave the crutches a trial run over to the bathroom door. “I guess I’ll have to thank him, won’t I?”

  “Yes, he braved cobwebs and spiders just for you.”

  “That barely begins to balance the scales,” she said before closing the bathroom door. After a quick shower, despite her newfound mobility, she was installed on the living room sofa with her foot propped up on a mountain of cushions. From that vantage point she was still capable of bossing her brother around, which suited her just fine.

  “Linc, we have to get my stuff out of Mom and Dad’s room and drag that old daybed out of the attic and put it back in my room, so I’ll have a place to sleep.”

  “Attic? I already went up into one attic today.” He shuddered. “Why can’t you just sleep on the couch while they’re here? It’s not like they’re moving home permanently.”

  “Are you going to argue with me about everything? I’m not sleeping on the couch, and your old bedroom is still full of exercise equipment.”

  The doorbell rang, and Dinah went to answer it. She returned with Harry on her heels.

  “Hey, Harry.” Marla smiled at him from the sofa.

  “Good morning, Marla Jean. I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.” He held out a big box of candy. “I thought you might want something sweet to take your mind off your foot.”

  “Oh Harry, that’s so thoughtful.” She looked at the box. “Turtles are my favorites.”

  “Harry, my man, you have perfect timing.” Lincoln pounced on him before he had a chance to sit down. “I could use your help hauling a bed for Marla Jean down from the attic. Come with me.”

  Be
fore he could protest or ask any questions, Lincoln swept him away toward the garage. Dinah started back to the kitchen to resume boiling and bleaching and scalding every surface before her mother-in-law saw them, but before she could make it out of the room, the doorbell rang again. “My, my, you’re a popular woman.”

  When she reappeared this time Donny Joe was right behind her, carrying his cowboy hat in one hand and a big bunch of yellow daisies in the other.

  “Woo-ee woman, look at you. I heard you were laid up.”

  “Word sure travels fast in this town.” Marla Jean let out a resigned sigh as he handed her the bouquet. “Thanks for the flowers, Donny Joe. They’re beautiful.”

  “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.” He winked, pouring it on thick. “Yep, you were all anybody was talking about at the Rise-N-Shine this morning.” He grinned and leaned in to examine her bandaged foot. “You really did a number on yourself, didn’t you? Can I do anything to help?”

  Dinah didn’t give Marla Jean a chance to answer. She grabbed Donny Joe by the wrist and started pulling him toward the kitchen. “I’m so glad you asked. How do you look in an apron, big boy?”

  “Pigs-in-a-blanket?” Jake’s Aunt Libby waved a tray under his nose. “They used to be your favorite.”

  Before he could respond his mother cut into the conversation, demanding, “Libby Comstock, for the last time, what happened to your face?”

  His mother had asked him a similar question when he’d picked her up for dinner that evening. The blow Marla Jean had gotten in the night before had turned his eye a nice shade of purple. He’d made up some story about walking into a wall, and while it was clear she hadn’t believed him, she hadn’t pressed him, either. There was no way he was going to tell her that Marla Jean had taken a poke at him.

  Jake remembered the way he’d cringed when his aunt opened the door to welcome them, and he’d gotten a good look at the aftermath of her run-in with Marla Jean and the bathroom door. Both of her eyes were slightly blackened and her nose was swollen and red. Marla Jean was going to get a reputation as a real brawler if word got out that she was responsible for all this carnage. But Aunt Libby acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, so he’d played along. His mother didn’t have the same reservations about being a buttinski where her sister was concerned.